


What's In A Word - Baisemain

by Davechicken



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:</p>
<p>Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In A Word - Baisemain

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says, and he means it. He means it, though it’s not really clear from just using two words. He tries to put it across in his eyes, in the pain he lets show. Pain, guilt, regret, remorse… all of the above and more.

“You should be,” Crowley says, not letting him off the hook _that_ easily.

“You have every right to be upset,” the angel goes on, and flickers those eyes to the ground, to Crowley’s shoes, to the ant ten inches away carrying something sweet home like a triumphant warrior.

“I’m listening.” Arms folded across his chest, defensively.

How can he get this across to him? How can he express this, when it’s all a tangled mess of emotion and action and lack of action? All set in stone? Cas flusters, not knowing what else to do…

…then he looks up. King. Crowley wears that title more proudly than anything else. He’s always been a stickler for tradition, so Cas… drops to one knee, supplicant. He drops his head, and waits.

“Cas, what are you…?”

“I want to prove to you that I mean it,” Cas says, and when the demon’s arms unfold, unsure, he reaches out for one. Fingers slide around his wrist, pressing against his pulse-point. He tugs gently, grateful when the King complies.

“If you think you can just bend a knee and it all goes away, then… oh.”

Hand close to his lips, Cas runs a soft kiss over the backs of knuckles, breath whispering against his fingers. He closes his eyes and kisses more firmly, then looks up.

Crowley sighs. “Fine. I bloody well forgive you, alright? But don’t think you can pull that stunt every time.”

“I don’t plan to _need_ to, again.”

“Don’t count your chickens just yet, Kitten.”

Cas smiles, and rises. He keeps hold of Crowley’s hand for as long as possible, and then the demon shakes him off and turns. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”


End file.
